Priya didn't look at me even once while serving dinner.
Her phone kept vibrating on the corner of the dining table, screen facing down. Each silent buzz felt heavier than the last in the quiet of our small 2BHK apartment in Lalpur, Ranchi.
I dropped my bag near the door and tried to smile. "The office was crazy today. Traffic near Firayalal was terrible."
No reply. Just the soft clink of steel plates.
I washed my hands and sat down. The ceiling fan turned slowly above us, barely moving the warm April air.
"Priya… what's wrong? You've been like this since I got home."
She finally glanced up. Her eyes were cold and distant. The same eyes that once used to light up when I walked through the door.
"Just eat, Kripa."
That was all she said.
This didn't feel like our home anymore.
We ate in complete silence.
The simple dal and vegetables tasted slightly bitter tonight, but I told myself it was the cheap oil or the stress from work. Priya kept watching me as I ate. Not with concern — with quiet calculation. Like she was measuring every bite.
After dinner, I tried again. "Priya, talk to me. What am I doing wrong?"
That opened the floodgates.
"Your salary is the problem, Kripa!" she snapped. "My cousin's husband earns one lakh twenty thousand a month. And you? Still stuck at thirty-eight thousand with no promotion in sight. What will people say? All my friends are living comfortable lives while I'm suffocating in this tiny flat."
Her words landed hard.
I clenched my jaw. "I'm trying, Priya. This is a small company in Ranchi. I work overtime almost every day. Remember how hard things were right after we got married? We faced everything together back then."
She gave a bitter laugh. "Together? That struggle was mostly yours. I was just enduring it."
My chest felt tight. For the first time in months, real frustration broke through.
"Is it only my salary that bothers you… or is it me?" I asked, voice low but sharp. "Have you ever thought about how I feel every single day when you speak to me like this?"
Priya stood up sharply. "Sleep in the other room tonight. I need space."
She walked into the bedroom and shut the door without waiting for my reply.
I sat at the table for a long time, staring at the empty plates, wondering how we had drifted this far.
After dinner, an unusual heaviness settled over me. My head felt foggy and my limbs weak. I blamed the long day, the argument, and the poor food. Everything felt too quiet today… like the silence before a storm.
I dragged myself to the smaller room, lay down on the hard bed, and sleep took me within minutes.
Sometime past 11:30 PM, I half-woke in a heavy daze.
My body refused to move. Through the thick fog, I heard faint voices coming from the bedroom — Priya's and a man's low murmur. For a second, I thought I heard my own name. I tried to sit up, but exhaustion dragged me back down. It must be a dream, I told myself. Just stress playing tricks.
I slipped back into darkness.
Priya quietly opened the main door.
Vikram stepped inside as if the house already belonged to him. They moved into the bedroom and closed the door softly.
"It's not working anymore," Priya whispered, her voice tired but firm. "Every day it's the same complaints, the same small life. I can't keep living like this."
Vikram stayed calm. "Divorce will bring too much mess. Family drama, relatives asking questions, everyone judging. It's better if things end… naturally."
Priya sighed softly. A brief flicker of hesitation crossed her face before it hardened again. "Then bring that thing tomorrow. The one that finishes everything quietly. I'll mix it in his evening meal when he returns from the office."
Vikram simply nodded. "It will be done."
Priya's expression became cold and determined. "After tomorrow night… Kripa Sharma will no longer be part of my life."
After Vikram left, Priya stood by the window for a moment.
The colony lane was usually quiet at this hour, but something strange caught her eye. Uncle Rajesh from the next building was violently banging his head against his iron gate again and again. Strange laughing and crying sounds mixed together as blood trickled down his forehead. A few neighbors stood at a distance, watching in confusion. The streetlights flickered twice even though the weather was clear.
Priya frowned, feeling a brief chill run through her, then shook her head.
"It's nothing," she muttered and closed the window tightly.
She returned straight to the bedroom. For her, tomorrow would end eve
rything.
By tomorrow night, this problem would be gone forever.
**End of Chapter 1**